by Sue Brown
Josh high-fived the boys as the doors opened. They received a few raised eyebrows from the suits and twinsets and pearls waiting but they ignored them. He was also acutely aware of a few admiring looks from a couple of women, and the receptionist. He ignored them too.
Chapter 6
Thursday 24th November
As they drove to Threadneedle Street, Josh looked at what Darryl had sent him about Michaels’ financials. Like the other area of his life Jonathan Michaels was a careful man and the couple lived well within their means. They were wealthy but they didn’t flaunt their wealth beyond a taste for travel. Darryl had pointed out a small regular payment that, in itself wouldn’t set off the alarms and didn’t seem out of the ordinary aside from one thing. The amount wasn’t substantial, no more than two hundred pounds per month, except it was to a company that didn’t exist, except on paper. Darryl had spent hours trying to trace the company and he was getting nothing, zip, nada. Ordinarily his bitching would have amused Josh but it was one more frustrating thing on top of a pile of frustrating things.
Josh wandered into Jesse’s office. Cal looked up from his laptop and said, “You’re working with me today.”
Oh great, Josh got to work with tall, dark and stuck-up for the day. Oh well, he could stare at Cal’s eyes and ass if he started annoying the crap out of him.
“I need to meet with his employer.”
“The meeting’s already set up,” Cal said. “We’re interviewing Philip Barton at two-thirty. Don’t expect much. He’s already made it clear that if we piss him off we’ll be talking to his lawyers.”
“Gil, Landry, Dominic wants you to look at Michaels’ friends,” Jesse said. “Rick’s going to drive Cal and Josh, and Dave will drive you two.”
Josh pressed his lips together, not keen on being organized again but he caught Gil’s warning glance. Go with it and we’ll talk later. Josh nodded to tell him the message was received and fucking understood.
Seemingly oblivious to their unspoken conversation, Cal led him into an office. “I thought I could tell you about Barton and Wharlow.”
Josh had spent some time investigating the firm but he did what he was asked, taking the opportunity to stare at the man’s butt as he followed him. Sue him! Josh was an ass man and this man had a spectacular one, tight and pert. Josh was tempted to flip a nickel off it until he looked up and realized Cal had glanced over his shoulder and caught his gaze. Oh shit! Josh raised an eyebrow, challenging Cal to make it a problem but he seemed more amused than anything else.
The office was small and Cal only made it seem smaller. Josh was about average at five-feet-ten, and his build was slim. Cal was easily six inches taller and could make three of him. In fact, Josh had a feeling Cal could quite happily bench press him with one hand and eat his roast beef and Yorkshire pudding with the other. Josh took a moment to think about that until he caught Cal staring at him again. Focus, Josh, focus! Still, until Charlie was prepared to make an honest man out of him he was prepared to get his kicks wherever possible, and Cal was damned attractive—for a stuck-up Brit.
Josh had half his attention on what Cal was saying as he ran through the history and structure of Barton and Wharlow, and the rest was thinking about Cal taking Josh over the desk, his thick cock inside him until Josh forgot his own name. Josh made all the appropriate noises and Cal seemed happy enough. Josh smiled inwardly; he’d always been able to multi-task.
“Are you okay, Josh?” Cal asked.
Josh managed his answer only half a beat too late. “Yeah, I’m fine. Why?”
“You seem distracted today. Is it the jet-lag?”
“I’ve just got a lot on my mind.” Josh tried to sound apologetic. Imagining you screwing me ‘til my brains shoot out my balls probably wasn’t the right answer.
“If you’re sure.” Cal seemed to have something on his mind too as he tapped the desk absently. “Look, Josh, I’m sorry about yesterday.”
Josh leaned back in his chair and waited because, yeah, he was still pissed at the reception they’d been given. He could almost see Cal’s brain working as he thought about what to say.
When it became clear Josh wasn’t going to speak, Cal continued. “I wanted to see how you’d react.”
“So that little performance was your idea?” Josh had the pleasure of seeing a red stain spread along Cal’s cheeks.
“Yeah.”
“Okay, but why? We’re supposed to be professional, working together.”
Cal shrugged. “You and your team come with a reputation. I wanted to see if it was justified.”
“A reputation?”
“For being arseholes. You should hear what Dirk Brenner says about you.”
Josh pulled a face. “He’s just a jealous bitch.”
“And your reputation is justified.” Cal grinned at him. “But you’ll get the job done.”
“Thanks.” Josh saluted him lazily. “Can we get over the pissing contest now? ‘Cause in the movies either London or New York gets blown up when the Yanks and the Brits get all uptight.”
Cal actually seemed to think about it for a second, and then he chuckled. “Okay, but just remember you’re on my turf now. Let’s get coffee before we go.”
“It’s not like you’re going to let me forget,” Josh muttered as he followed Cal out of the room.
For the second day in a row Josh got the feeling he was the bad stench in the room. They’d been at Barton and Wharlow for less than ten minutes and Philip Barton had already made it clear that, along with all the other authorities shoving their unwanted noses into his business, Josh was less than welcome. At least Mrs. Michaels answered his questions, although he did get offered a drink this time.
Barton and Wharlow’s offices were near Butler’s Wharf. According to Cal’s lecture—yes, Josh had been listening—this area of London was once docks and derelict neighborhoods, and had been regenerated in the eighties. Now it was full of over-priced apartments, office buildings and expensive shops. The office was nice enough if you liked bland and boring with abstract art and faceless staff. Josh had been in hundreds of these buildings and couldn’t recall a single one of them.
Mr. Barton, one of the founding partnership of Barton and Wharlow and Jonathan Michaels’ boss, stared at Josh over the rim of his glasses with a hostile expression. A silver fox with a mane of hair he envied, Barton reminded Josh of someone famous. But he couldn’t put his finger on who. Barton had been trying to intimidate Josh since he walked in the room, but Josh returned his gaze over a cup containing the best coffee he’d had since he’d landed on this godforsaken island. A lot could be forgiven with good coffee.
“You don’t seem concerned about the fate of your missing employee, Mr. Barton.” Josh decided he might as well stir the pot, as Cal seemed content to let him take the lead.
Barton sniffed. “We don’t know that he’s missing.”
“Is he in his office?” If Barton wanted to play dumb so could he.
“Of course he isn’t.”
“Is he on vacation?” Josh opened his eyes as wide as he could. It was a look that really pissed off Dominic and by the flaring nostrils and flat stare it worked on Barton, too.
“No.”
“Have you found his body?”
“No!” Barton snapped.
“Then he must be missing.”
“With the money.”
Of course. Josh took another sip of his drink. The root of the matter. The man couldn’t give a shit about his employee, but losing the money had caused Barton and Wharlow serious embarrassment.
“Are you paying the ransom?” Josh asked.
Barton’s lips pursed. “We’ve been advised not to.”
“Who by?”
“Our insurance company.”
Josh frowned at him. “You don’t want your employee returned safely?”
“They feel until it’s proved he’s really been kidnapped…” The silence was heavy with an air of guilt. Jonathan Michaels was being sa
crificed because of money.
“The ransom demand wasn’t a clue?”
Barton steepled his fingers. His nails were neatly manicured, a sharp contrast to Mrs. Michaels the day before. “They feel it took too long. They think it’s just Jon getting greedy.”
Josh probed at a chink in Barton’s armor. “But you don’t?”
Barton pressed his lips together and for a moment Josh thought he’d refuse to answer then he said, “I’ve known Jon for over ten years and this is totally out of character.”
“You don’t believe he stole the money.”
“The evidence says he did.” Each word sounded like Barton was chewing on glass.
“Jonathan Michaels is your friend.”
“I thought he was,” Barton admitted reluctantly. “But friends don’t try to destroy their friend’s businesses and lives.”
This was a one-eighty on the start of the conversation. Uncomfortable at the emotion in the man’s voice Josh glanced at Cal who, so far, had kept silent. “Any questions?”
“When did you last see Michaels?” Cal asked.
The sadness faded from Barton’s expression and now he just looked annoyed. “If you’re going to waste my time asking all these questions for the umpteenth time you can talk to my lawyer.”
Cal didn’t seem fazed by Barton’s sudden anger. “Just answer the question, Mr. Barton.”
The power in his voice made Josh’s balls tingle. He fidgeted and Cal glanced at him with a curious expression. Josh avoided Cal’s gaze in case he guessed that his thoughts were less than innocent. Not that his thoughts were ever innocent.
Barton huffed, thankfully distracting Josh. “As I told the police, I saw Jon in a meeting at 3.00 p.m. on the day he disappeared. And before you ask there are four other people that can verify this.”
Josh knew this already of course. They’d been in a meeting for an hour and half then Michaels had returned to his office and worked for another two hours. He had then said he was going for a sandwich. He bought food at a nearby Pret A Manger, and that was the last time anyone saw him. CCTV showed him leaving the store and walking down the street before he vanished into a nearby London Underground station. Why would he do that if he’d driven to work?
“Did Mr. Michaels drive to work?”
“Not usually,” Barton said. “He hated driving through London and having to pay the congestion charge. He caught the tube most days.”
“Did he drive the day he disappeared?”
“I don’t know,” Barton admitted. “I assumed he did because the police said they found his car by the Thames.”
“When did you realize about the embezzlement?” Josh asked.
“We audited his accounts, as we do whenever anyone leaves.”
“How often do you audit accounts?”
“Every year,” Barton snapped. “I’ve already told the police this and, before you ask, the last audit was March this year. Nothing showed up then.” He caught the glance Cal and Josh exchanged. “I’ve given those records to the Fraud Office. There is nothing in there. Nothing.” His voice rose sharply as he blustered his way through the denial.
“Do you think Mr. Michaels is responsible for the embezzlement?” Cal asked quietly.
Barton stared point blank at them. “I don’t know.”
“The evidence—” Josh started.
“Jon’s not like that.” There he was again, chewing on glass. It was obvious Barton didn’t want to believe his friend was a thief. Jon Michaels had some passionate defenders. Josh hoped he was the good guy they thought he was.
Josh noticed beads of sweat on Barton’s forehead. “Is there something you haven’t told us, Mr. Barton?”
“What?”
“You’re sweating.”
Barton wiped his forehead with the back of his hand and stared down at it as if he was surprised to see the wetness on his skin. “No, no, I’ve told you everything.”
And I’m a monkey’s uncle.
Josh stood up and held out his hand. “You’ve been very helpful, Mr. Barton.”
Barton stayed in his leather seat and, after a few moments, Josh let his hand fall to his side. “Are you going to find Jon?”
“That’s what I’m here for.”
“Find him before something bad happens,” Barton said urgently.
“If there’s something you know and you’re not telling us,” Cal warned. Josh could hear the ice dripping from his tone.
Before Barton could reply his office door opened and his PA, an immaculately dressed young man with piercing blue eyes, walked in. “Your three o’clock is here, Mr. Barton.”
Barton looked relieved at the interruption. “I’m sorry, I have to end this meeting, gentlemen. If you have any further questions you can talk to our lawyers.”
It was clear the conversation was over. Josh and Cal were ushered to the elevators and Josh noticed the PA waited for the doors to close, obviously to ensure they left. Cal held his comments until they were on the sidewalk waiting for the car. “Well?”
“He just ‘happened’ to walk in at that moment? And did you notice there was no one waiting in the outer office?”
Cal nodded in agreement. “And why did he have a three o’clock meeting if he was meeting us at two-thirty?”
“Do you think the PA was listening in?”
“I think it’s worth taking a closer look at Barton and his PA.”
Josh thought about the conversation they’d just had. “He knows something. He looks scared and conflicted, but I get the feeling he’s genuinely fond of Michaels.”
“Not fond enough to tell all,” Cal pointed out. “Money trumps loyalty.”
“Death trumps friendship,” Josh countered.
“You think Barton’s being threatened?”
Josh smiled at Cal, who blinked as if dazzled. “Let’s find out.”
Two hours later the two teams sat around a large conference table in Threadneedle Street, the remains of a very late lunch—a few sandwiches curling up at the ends and limp lettuce—still on the table. Cal laid out the events of the meeting and Jesse nodded.
“Detective Sergeant Dirk Brenner from the Serious Fraud Office and Detective Chief Inspector Susan Walters from the Metropolitan Police Force are going to join us in a minute,” Jesse informed them. “Stay awake in this meeting, Cal.” At Josh’s look of confusion, Jesse explained, “Cal spent most of this morning’s meeting in a daze.”
Cal rolled his eyes. “If you’re going to call six o’clock meetings what do you expect?”
Rick and Dave cleared the plates away from the table and Jesse ordered more coffee. Josh took the opportunity to use the restroom and check his emails before Brenner and Walters turned up. Charlie didn’t log on, which was disappointing but also a relief. Josh still hadn’t had time to process his thoughts about their last encounter. He slid back into his seat as the two police officers arrived.
Dirk ignored Josh from the minute he walked into the room, although he greeted everyone else pleasantly enough. Josh caught Cal’s amused look but he just shrugged. What could he say? Dirk was an ass. Susan didn’t seem to have issues with Josh although she made it clear she was unhappy as they got down to business.
“I’m not happy with all the civilians trampling over my case.”
“We’re hardly civilians,” Jesse pointed out.
“Quasi-military and glorified mall cops,” she sneered. “You’re civilians in my world.”
Glorified mall cops? Landry and Gil frowned, visibly angered by her description. Josh saw the smirk on Dirk’s face and knew at once that he’d been feeding poison into her ear.
“We’re not interested in turf wars, particularly with bean counters.” Josh ignored Dirk’s glare. “We’re going to find Jonathan Michaels with or without you.” He stared at Dirk, challenging him to respond. He scowled back, but he looked away first and kept his mouth shut.
“Let’s attempt to be civil,” Jesse said impatiently. “We all want the same th
ing.”
No one contradicted him although Josh was damn sure the various factions around the table didn’t have the same goal.
“Mr. Barton’s financials make interesting reading,” Dirk said, shoving folders toward them. “If Jon Michaels is squeaky clean, Barton is anything but.”
“Three failed businesses and three ex-wives?” Landry snorted loudly. “The man’s competing with a certain presidential candidate for jackass of the year.”
“He pays more in alimony than I earn in a year,” Gil said.
Josh nodded in agreement. However, Barton and Wharlow had succeeded where the previous businesses had failed, and for the last fifteen years everything had been peachy—at least on the surface. Underneath things weren’t so calm.
“Barton’s stretched to the limit financially,” Cal noted. “His wife is a QC specializing in family law. Even so, they live well beyond their means.”
“What’s a QC?” Gil asked.
“A top lawyer.” Dirk answered, his tone much friendlier to Gil.
“A total opposite from Jon and Melissa Michaels,” Landry said.
Josh made a note. Three ex-wives, Jesus. The thought of one horrified him. “What about Brent Wharlow?”
“He’s clean. The only thing he’s guilty of is drinking the profits and even that’s in moderation,” Susan said.
Dirk hummed in agreement. “Barton’s our number one suspect. We’re following his accounts but they’re complicated. We suspect him of insider training.”
“You think Michaels might have discovered what was going on?” Jesse asked. “If he’s as honorable as he seems to be, there’s no way he’d have stood by, even if it was his friend.”
Cal tapped the table thoughtfully. “So Michaels threatens to go to the police and Barton kills him?”
“What about his car?” Josh asked. The car was the one thing that had bothered him from the start. “Why would Barton bother with the car when he knows Michaels hates to drive in London?”